The first time I visited Shannon Hale’s website, it was to find her contact information.

Shannon was my favorite author for several years, and I still recommend her books to fantasy lovers everywhere. At 12 years old, my number one goal was to find a way to thank this author for the magic she brought to my life. So, you can probably imagine my disappointment when I found her beautifully worded but crushing announcement that she no longer had time to respond to letters from her readers.

She always wanted to be the author that replied to every piece of fan mail, but at the end of the day, she could write me a letter, or she could write me a book. And which one did I want?

Both, obviously. Both was the only answer. But since both wasn’t an option, I decided to take over as the author who always responds to her readers.

A terrible choice, really, considering how much time I dumped into social media when I first launched my Twitter and Instagram pages. Sure, the constant flood of comments, tags and DMs was a lot for some people, but I could handle it. And sure, maybe building an email list is more important than growing my Instagram following, but I could do both. Both was the only answer, right?

Wrong. *cries*

Tweeting My Brains Out

When I first started using Twitter as a way to connect with other writers, I spent no less than an hour a day scrolling through my feed… and never reaching the end of it.

Thanks to my great taste in hashtags (or maybe my poor judgement of bot accounts), my notifications immediately exploded in DMs, list additions and invitations to review books by indie authors.

I made it my goal to tweet at least three times a day. To follow every writer who followed me. To constantly scan my followers for the infamous follow-to-unfollow cruelty that exists in this imperfect world.

And then, one day, I spent so much time on Twitter that I didn’t work on a single thing for my books. Me–the productive writer. Blowing an entire day on social media. And I didn’t even have the actual Twitter app.

Sticking to My Theme

Ah, bookstagram. A never-ending stream of bookish photos, complete with limited edition covers, character portraits and candles that smell like Hogsmeade. I could blow my entire budget on the gorgeous but decidedly unnecessary items that I find on Instagram every day.

Like Twitter, the bookstagram community welcomed me with a flood of comments, tags and DMs. My TBR tripled in length, and that was before the review requests started rolling in.

I did my best to scroll through my entire feed at least once a day, but after another afternoon of reading about other authors’ books without actually working on my own, I gave up.

My main issue with Instagram is that I’m not a photographer. I’m a writer. I knew that. And yet, for months, I spent my weekends locked up in my room, yanking books off shelves to take obviously staged photos of everything. I enjoyed it for a spell, but after moving into a basement room with zero natural lighting, I started to hate photography with an unhealthy passion.

Even after I decided to cut my weekly posts back from five to three, I was spending too much time scrolling through my feed. But, true to character, I couldn’t bear to leave any of my followers hanging without a like, comment or DM… not even if there were 2k.

My New Philosophy

It makes me so sad to write this, but I recognize that it must be done.

Boundaries are so important, and if I ever want to finish editing my debut novel, I’m going to have to enforce the boundaries I’ve made for myself on social media. I suppose this is me holding myself accountable. Yadda yadda get to the point.

I no longer scroll through my Twitter feed for more than ten minutes a day. It was hard at first, but now that those other 50 minutes are getting poured into editing, stuff is coming together.

I no longer tweet three times a day. We’re lucky if I tweet once. But at least now, when I do tweet, you’re getting my authentic, spur-of-the-moment thoughts, not a clever quip I jotted down 12 hours ago.

I no longer scroll through my Instagram feed… at all… until I’ve earned it. I have a shortlist of followers who I check in with, but everyone else is a pleasant surprise at the end of a long day of editing. This is the sacrifice I wrestle with the most, and I appreciate how graceful the bookstagram community has been about it.

I haven’t taken my own bookish photos since last spring (minus a few bookish merch displays/headshots), and that’s no secret. When I realized there are lovely humans out there who actually ENJOY photography, I made the decision to support their efforts by posting their free photos on my page. Photo credit can usually be found in the first comment on each of my Instagram posts. Not only does this give the carefully selected photos/photographers exposure, but it keeps you from having to wonder why I even try to take photos. So much winning here.

That being said, I’m thinking about once again switching up my Instagram theme a la Rebecca Ross. Less must-post-three-times-per-week and more oh, hey, I have something pretty to share.

Final Thoughts

The DRAMA. But y’all know me–I like to be transparent. If any of this is news to you, then thanks for reading. If you’ve already noticed these changes or just don’t care, that’s great, too. I appreciate you.

I genuinely believed that I would be the author who could respond to every reader, but with the constant noise of social media, it’s impossible to catch everything and still breathe. Know how much I value your voice and presence–infinitely. Know that I do my best to answer with my own.

Social media was never meant to be a bummer, friends. If you don’t feel like posting, don’t. You won’t get an ounce of judgement from me.

Photo by Paul Hanaoka on Unsplash

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